


Things Have Changed

by nandonman



Series: Destroy Me [2]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mental Health Issues, Washingroe, because i needed more angst, dw it gets better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23355409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nandonman/pseuds/nandonman
Summary: A sequel to "Over The Years."
Relationships: Mike Munroe/Josh Washington
Series: Destroy Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679794
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	Things Have Changed

**Author's Note:**

> Words in /slashes/ are meant to be italicized.

Mike sat with his hands on the steering wheel, more than a little dazed as he waited for the light to turn. His mind should have been racing, he thought, but instead it was a fog. Wordless. Empty.  
Until the light turned green, and Mike's eyes flickered up, and suddenly he was back in the apartment with Josh, watching the horror in Josh's eyes as he pushed him away.  
He told him to leave, but his eyes said something else.  
'I fucked up. Again.'  
Mike turned the wheel, turning into the fast lane and speeding past the white Toyota beside him.  
"Damn it."  
Damn it all, actually. Because Josh was blaming himself for Mike's mistake. Mike should have never reciprocated anything. Not on the anniversary of the day he messed with his little sister. No, it was all so wrong, and Mike had just made it worse.

The next light turned red as Mike got close. He slammed his head against the wheel and groaned.

The next few days went by as any other for Mike--just with an extra pinch of back-of-his-mind material, lurking and bothering him at the most inopportune moments. He had worked for the majority of time since the anniversary, working full time hours as school was out for the winter. He had to admit, it was anything but fun to be on a delivery run and get hit by guilt like a truck. Yeah. That happened a couple times before Mike gave in.

Friday night, it was unusually slow at Pizza Hut, and Mike convinced himself to try to talk to Josh. He typed out a paragraph before deleting it, trying again with a "Hey. We should talk"  
He stared at the "delivered" under his message for an embarrassing amount of time before taking a deep breath and pressing his contact.

The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before going silent. Then, a raspy voice picked up.  
"This is Josh Washington. I uh can't come to the phone. Obviously. So leave a message and try not to make it too long. If you do, don't get mad when I don't call back. Cool. Leave a message . . . Now."

Mike scoffed at Josh's ridiculous voicemail before clearing his throat.  
"Yeah. Uh, hey Josh. This is Mike. Look, we both know we need to talk, so just give me a call when you can." He paused, trying to think of what else to say.

But a voice beat him to it.  
"Dude, I can't believe you actually fell for that."

Mike furrowed his brows before cursing under his breath and rubbing his forehead.  
"You fucking idiot, why--why'd you even do that?"

"You just proved a point, man."

"Which is?"

"You're a dumbass."

Mike rolled his eyes, as useless as it was.

"Great. Glad we got that settled." He exhaled before adding on, "Now are we gonna talk or what?"

A pause.

"That's a pretty good idea, actually."

Mike's eyes fluttered closed for a moment in relief. Great. Now he just had to figure out what the hell to say. Unless . . .

"Alright, cool. Want to meet up sometime?"

Josh went silent for even longer than his last break. When he spoke up again, it was only after Mike heard some sort of shuffling sound. Must be lying down or something.

"I'm free tomorrow. What about your place this time? Not too early though. I ain't waking up at ass-a.m."

Mike smiled slightly, rubbing at his stubble as he had begun pacing slightly outside the back door.

"Yeah, sounds good. Let's do 3?"

"3, on the dot. Got it."

"Great." Mike cleared his throat before adding, "Try not to pass out this time."

Josh chuckled, low and drawn out.

"Wouldn't dream it."

-

Saturday at 3:12, Mike heard a knock on the door of his townhouse. He was more than a little ashamed that his heartbeat picked up at the sound, but he supposed he had good reason to be nervous.

He sat up from where he was slumped over on his couch and pushed away some of the trash his roomie had left the night before on the coffee table. Mike stood and grabbed his phone, slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans, then making his way to the door.

The door opened to reveal . . . an empty hallway. Mike frowned and stepped out to glance around, but when he did, he immediately met Josh's piercing gaze, only a mere three inches from his own.

"Shit!"

Mike pushed Josh away lightly and stepped back as the latter started laughing, pointing at him with that lopsided grin of his.

"You're ridiculous."

Josh shook his head and followed the other man inside with the scattered remains of his laughter, now only a soft chuckle.  
"And you're just so fun to mess with. I mean, you keep falling for shit, man!"

Mike ignored the comment and closed the door behind them, fixing Josh with an unimpressed stare. He only hoped his nerves didn't show through the facade.

"Sure. Whatever you say."

Josh seemed to collect himself then, smiling at Mike for a moment before locking eyes with the other man. A moment passed in sheer awkwardness, but Mike couldn't bring himself to be the one to break it because he'd seen something in Josh's eyes that he wanted desperately to figure out. But Josh turned away before he could.

"You've got a nice place here. Real . . . rustic."

Mike scoffed and walked a few feet in, moving to the kitchen to grab them some drinks. Anything to make this less horrible than it already was.

"If by rustic you mean horribly unkept, then sure. My roommate can't do shit, and unfortunately, I've been busy the for the past few days. Sorry about the mess."

Mike returned with two cans of beer and handed one to Josh.

Josh just shook his head and shrugged, looking about the apartment quietly. At some point, Mike knew it was time to suck it up and just let it out. So he did.

"Look, um . . . Do you want to sit down for this?"

Josh met his gaze, and Mike was hit with a realization. Something was wrong. Or--more off than it should be. Different.

"Yeah."

And so Mike led them both to the shitty leather couch he spent most of his free time on, and Josh sat with his eyes trained on the coffee table before them.

Mike figured he should be the one to speak up, and so he said what he'd rehearsed that morning in front of his bathroom mirror.

"Josh, I'm . . . really sorry about the other night. You know which one."

Josh just slowly moved his gaze to Mike and waited. Mike could have sworn he saw Josh's eyes lose focus and drift just past his head, but the moment was passed before he could ponder on it. Josh's eyes snapped back, focused on him with such intensity that Mike nearly forgot what he had to say next.

"--I wasn't thinking," he eventually continued. "And it's not your fault. I don't know what happened. But I hope that . . . We can continue to be friends, and keep that night as it should've been. For our friends, and the people we lost."

Silence.

Then, a soft sound, followed by the sound of Josh's hand slipping into his pocket. Mike looked up, not knowing what to expect, and was not disappointed in that regard. Josh had laughed.  
It was a harsh sound, obviously hollow. It sounded wrong, and not at all like the man he'd gotten to know over the past three years.

"Fucking great," Mike mumbled, looking away as Josh moved a hand behind his head, resting on the arm of the couch behind them and smiling, as if entertained by Mike's attempt to be genuine.

Mike looked back at him, incredulous. "What?"

Josh sat up, one hand still in his pocket and the other pushing off the end of the couch.

"You, Mike Munroe, are not the brightest bulb."

Mike raised an eyebrow, but quickly his face fell as a glimmer entered Josh's eyes. Something empty, and pained. Even . . . scared.

Josh continued before Mike could think of what to say. "You really want to trust me, don't you?"

Mike frowned. What the hell did he mean?

"You keep opening up, letting me in." Josh moved closer. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Mike didn't like where this was going, and in one last desperate attempt at normalcy, he tried to push the conversation back. "Why wouldn't it be? You're human, Josh. That's what we do."

"Am I?"

Josh smiled, a hopeless, terrified thing, and Mike felt himself immediately go rigid as Josh pulled out a switchblade from his pocket.

"Woahwoahwoah, what the fuck?"

Mike stood, backing away towards the kitchen, a horrible sense of dread sinking into his chest.

"You think you can change me or something? You think we're the same?"

Josh kicked over the coffee table, cocking his head with a glazed over expression.

"You're crazy, man. You've officially fucking lost it."

Josh scoffed and moved closer. Mike matched his steps, moving around the counter. He had knives in the drawer by the sink, if it came to that. God, he hoped it wouldn't.

"Ding-ding-ding! He finally gets it."

Mike clenched his teeth. "You're a jackass, you know that?"

"Among other things."

Mike's back hit the counter behind him, and there was a moment of silence. Memories rushed into Mike's mind, reminding him, filling him with adrenaline. He would be ready--for anything. Then the silence broke, and Josh lunged forward.

Mike gasped as a hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed. He grabbed Josh's arm and pulled him closer before kneeing him in the crotch, using the opportunity to push him back. But Josh recovered sooner than most would, and Mike groaned as his head hit the cupboards, Josh already pulling him up again and pressing his knife to the other man's neck.

Mike stilled, suddenly becoming very aware of how each of his breaths led his neck closer to the blade above it.

"Listen. Josh. You're not thinki--"

"Shut up! Just--stop talking."

Josh brought the knife closer to Mike, his eyes trained on it, still with that half-glazed over look in his wide, light eyes. His tongue ran across his lips, and he shifted footing, other hand holding the back of his neck carefully, as if he were--ironically--afraid his hold were too tight.

Mike closed his mouth and swallowed. Whatever was happening, he knew anything he said could end or save his life. Josh tilted his head and took a deep breath through his mouth, hissing out an exhale as his grip on the switchblade changed.

"It's nothing personal, Michael. No, really."

Mike tried to look away, but Josh's empty gaze followed him relentlessly.

"I just . . . have to do this. You have to die."

Mike's blood ran cold, but he turned to face Josh for what would could've been the last time. He opened his mouth without thinking, and gave away a secret he'd never shared--not to his friends, his parents, or anyone. Not even that stupid therapy group he'd been forced to attend. And especially not himself.

"Then do it."

A pause.

"Nonono, you're just trying to fuck with me. You're fucking with me. Stop--Stop fucking around!"

Josh shoved Mike further back, and Mike grabbed the counter, eyes flicking down to the cool surface against his neck.

"I'm not. You want to kill me?" Mike looked up at him. "Then. Do. It."

Josh gritted his teeth."I don't--"

His grip loosened, but Mike stopped himself from escaping the other man's grasp. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice yelled, screamed at him to /run,/ but Mike was determined. If they were going to show their true colors, then fuck, he was going to take advantage of it.

"You don't what? Don't think you can do it? Can't take your own friend's life?"

In front of him, Josh glared, sweat trickling from his hair and down the side of his face. He tilted his head back while looking down at Mike, grip tightening on the blade.

Mike's gaze was unwavering as he reached for Josh's hand and gently pushed the switchblade against his own neck. It sunk in, ready to cut with just the slightest movement.

"You've done it before. So have I."

Mike's voice was quiet--reverent, almost. And Josh knew exactly why. It was the same thing that made the glaze over his eyes melt into the sharpness of pain. The same reason why he softly retracted his blade and threw it to the ground. It was what curled his fingers into the back of Mike's hair and brought water to his eyes.

"Mike . . ."

"I know."

"Yeah. You do, don't you?"

Mike smiled, soft and pained, but not taking away from the glimmer in his dark brown eyes.

"I shouldn't have let you go."

Josh hesitated, swallowing even as Mike pulled him closer and kicked the switchblade away from beside their feet.

"I won't this time, psycho-boy. I won't."

And then Mike was kissing him again--hesitant at first, but soft, his stubble brushing against Josh's clean shaven skin. Josh returned the kiss soon after, and Mike noted how dry his lips had become.

Swiping his tongue gently across Josh's lower lip, he reached behind the other man and held his waist, leaning against the counter and pulling Josh with him. Josh was more than hesitant at first, melting slightly at the feeling of Mike's tongue against his lips but still holding back.

Mike pulled away slightly, looking in Josh's eyes. "Are you okay?"

Josh looked down at him and gaped. "I legit just tried to kill you."

Mike smiled, a small and gentle thing. "Crazy how these things happen."

Josh scoffed, but Mike only took a breath and leaned closer, kissing his neck, gentle at first but gradually more passionate as Josh melted into his touch. The latter moved his hands down to Mike's chest, grabbing at his jacket and his own eyes falling shut.

"You mentioned before," Mike began, lips still hovering against the skin of Josh's neck. "That you'd wanted this for a while now."

Josh's eyes opened, only slightly, watching the way Mike's head moved as he left another kiss against his neck, this time lower than the rest. "How long?"

"You wouldn't believe me," Josh mumbled.

"Seriously?"

"Fine," Josh muttered. But instead of an answer, he swooped down to capture Mike's lips in his own. With Josh taking the lead, he was much less soft and a lot more . . . passionate.

Josh kissed him deeply, only pulling away to whisper against his lips the five years he'd spent wishing he could feel him like this. Mike, in turn, hummed into his hold and walked them both over to his shitty couch, where Josh shocked him by pushing him down and settling into his lap.

Mike held the other man as he took his lips in his own, biting down and making Mike have some pretty serious doubts about his 'heterosexuality.'

Josh grinned into their kiss and moved a hand under Mike's shirt, exploring the warm skin underneath. Mike shivered at the other man's cold touch and turned to his side, resting against the arm of the couch and pulling Josh against him.

They stayed like that until Mike was shirtless and Josh was . . . well, in a compromising position.  
Mike laughed and Josh couldn't help but grin, until Mike took mercy and helped him out of his baggy pants. Over the years, Mike had taken to skinny jeans, liking the way they stressed his muscles, but Josh's sense of style didn't seem to have changed much.

And so they were left holding each other, Josh's head resting against the pillow behind Mike and Mike running his hands from Josh's blue and black flannel down to his perky little ass.

Josh sighed, smiling to himself as he messed with the raw skin on Mike's chest, where he'd made a few marks.

"You know, if I knew we'd end up making out, I would have threatened you a long time ago."

Mike snorted and pinched his ass, making Josh squirm slightly.  
"Oh, shut up."

Josh chuckled and pulled himself up, placing a hand on by either side of Mike and looking down at him with a web of emotions hidden behind his eyes.  
"You're . . . incredible, you know."

Mike raised an eyebrow and smiled up at him, painfully aware of how Josh's eyes were relaxed, perfectly content--a contrast to the distressed state he'd been in for the past . . . well.

"Am I now?"

"Indefinitely."

"Wow," Mike smiled, eyes flicking down to Josh's lips as he drew closer. "How long it take you to learn that word?"

"Few hours, tops."

Mike chuckled, and soon Josh's lips were back against his own, right where they should be.

Oh, how the years had changed.

**Author's Note:**

> Sucky ass epilogue? More likely than you think.  
> Thank you for reading!! <3
> 
> (also mike in a sweater??? discuss.)


End file.
